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sary information, "there are three that insisted to me they were little hurt and could fight again, but I judge either that they do not yet feel their hurts or are of such spirit that they do not wish to yield. I counted them in with the sore hurt, my lord. I did not order that they be carried down, but those three will die, I judge, if they strive again." |
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Ian shook his head. "There you judged wrong. You should have sent them down. I will tell you why. It is true that if we lose, we all die, but I have some hope of succor. If we can hold the walls for a few days only, my Welsh vassals may come or Lady Alinor may come, or my northerners may come. Remember, Sir Peter set free my men-at-arms, and they will fly for help. Thus, those men might live if we live. Nor do we lose all if we lose the walls. If we are beaten back from them, we will fight in the bailey, and then we will close ourselves into the keep itself and fight. That would be time enough for those three to die, if needful." |
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"I see. I will remember. If there is time, I will go send them down." |
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There was no resentment in the voice, merely thoughtfulness. In this, Ian thought, Geoffrey was a shade better than Owain. The older squire always bristled a little under criticism, even when he knew that his master was offering instruction through that path. Ian knew Geoffrey could be resentful enough; he did not lack spirit. But he was not resentful about such things. Geoffrey would be a fine man. Then he passed his hand over his face tiredly. Geoffrey might never have the chance to be a man at all. There could be no doubt now. Lord Gwenwynwyn's men were forming for another attack. |
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By midmorning, before the assault had been launched against Clyro, Salisbury had managed to make Alinor's men thoroughly unhappy. They all admitted that it was not like their lady to summon them and not be waiting |
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